Ataraxia, Suddenly
by Hoodoo
Summary: Murdock, not Face, is given the task to seduce a woman. Watching him, Face realizes he's jealous.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Hey, guess what? They're not mine. No money made, no worries.

Notes: Just a fill for a prompt (Murdock seduces a woman, and Face realizes he has feelings for the pilot); nothing overtly graphic but if man-love isn't your cup of tea, considered yourself warned.

Enjoy!

* * *

It had all gone well.

Too well.

Too well for a team used to the jazz, making some things up on the fly, and scraping through by the skin of their teeth.

Murdock had been tapped to court the socialite—

_(That's my job, boss, Face had whined)_

—a brunette with bedroom eyes and a curvy, top-heavy frame—

_(Recon says she doesn't like blonds, Face, Hannibal had said, she had a bad break-up and doesn't trust 'em anymore)_

—and the pilot did so with passion and aplomb that took some of the team—

_(Face)_

—by surprise.

Murdock was attentive and charming; he said all the right things at all the right times—

_(B.A. complained about the fool's stupid prattle coming through the mic)_

—and he seduced the young lady right up and into her bedroom, pulling her away from the other guests.

_(Quicker than you, Faceman, B.A. chuckled)_

_ (Better watch your place on the team, Hannibal chuckled)_

_ (Face felt sick)_

That had been the plan, of course, because the other three members of his team needed time without her noticing her wait staff had grown by three, and those three weren't particularly good at passing out hors d'oeuvres and clearing tables. And if Murdock could coax more information out of the young lady about her father's business, that would be icing on the cake.

B.A. removed his earpiece when Murdock and the young lady took to the stairs; Hannibal did the same when the giggles and breathy words took on a decidedly adult turn.

Face wanted to, knew he should, but found he couldn't.

_(Face still felt sick)_


	2. Chapter 2

Murdock bounced into the kitchen. Some mornings he did that, even if he hadn't gotten laid by a slutty socialite who probably would open her legs for a German Shepherd if the dog had paid her any attention.

_(Face was still feeling sick, and bitter)_

"Mornin', Facey!" Murdock bounced his way to the conman's side, all smiles and sunshine.

"Hmph," Face replied eloquently, staring deeper into his black coffee.

"Goooood morning, good morning—we talked the whole night through," Murdock sang, channeling his inner Debbie Reynolds as he came up beside Face's chair, "good morning, good morning, to you—"

"Hmph," Face repeated.

Murdock stopped singing. "You okay, Facey?"

"Yes."

_(No)_

"Why're you up so early? Job went fine—better than fine, really, for once—usually you're sleeping till mid-morning as a treat. You want me to make you some breakfast—"

_(Face couldn't sleep, because mental images of Murdock and that slut played out behind his eyelids, complete with stereo surround sound courtesy of the damn crystal-clear microphones and earpieces B.A. managed to rig up)_

"—I could do pancakes or waffles if you give me a little bit of time, or just some quick eggs and toast—"

"No."

Murdock eyed him critically. "You drink too much last night? You want some aspirin or somethin'? Need more than just black coffee in your stomach—want some toast?"

"No."

"Okay then . . ." Murdock was obviously not convinced but contrary to popular belief he could not pester on occasion. "Hope you wake up soon!"

He dropped a hand on Face's shoulder—

_ (Don't react don't react)_

—gave a squeeze, and bounced back out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

Face tried to convince himself he was jealous Murdock took that young lady to bed so easily. He tried to believe that Hannibal's and B.A.'s occasional good-natured teasing about losing his seat as the team's lady's man was the reason he had a hard time looking directly at Murdock, and why he made excuses to leave the room if the pilot came in.

_(In reality, it was because he realized those late night impromptu memories of Murdock's voice and movements while he was with that young lady that his brain insisted on repeating and repeating AND REPEATING turned him on. He could do something about it in the middle of the night, but during the day when Murdock clapped him on the shoulder or leaned against him comfortably on the couch it was much more difficult to hide a hard-on)_

_ (In reality, it was easier to pretend jealousy than admit the honest truth)_

_ (In reality, the visions in his head morphed that young lady to himself. Murdock whispered increasingly dirty suggestions to him, not her; Murdock's throaty chuckle tickled his ear, not hers; Murdock's accent became deeper when he told him how he wanted him on top, not her; Murdock's gasps and moans and encouraging little cries were for Face, not her)_

Face struck the mattress beside him with a closed fist. No sleep again tonight. No use lying here in a cold bed when his brain conjured up hot images that, in reality, didn't include him.

Face got up.

He wandered to the first floor of the rental, wondering if he was a good enough to scam and get some of the downers they occasionally had to slip to B.A. Hannibal kept those tight to his chest—they were illegal, after all—but maybe, just maybe he could convince the Boss he needed them too. Then he could see if they'd dull his brain enough not to think or dream or at least remember.

The TV would be too loud, there were no books he wanted to read. It was nice, here in the dark and quiet. The crickets outside were loud, and Face walked to the sliding glass door to the patio. Carefully he popped it open and stepped outside, drawing chilled night air into his lungs.

The air cleared his head.

"Evenin', Facey."

Murdock's drawl startled him.

_(That sudden clarity evaporated)_

"Evening, Murdock," Face choked out.

The pilot was on one of the lounge chairs, under the open sky. In spite the chill, he was shirtless, with only worn pajama pants on, and no socks. The pants were so thin Face could see the outline of Murdock's legs and a suggestion of his, of his—

_(Cock)_

—groin in the moonlight.

"Nice night. Clear. Pull up a chair an' join me."

How could he not, without being horribly rude to his best friend?

Face sat tensely in the canvas chair beside Murdock. Murdock, usually so intuitive, didn't seem to notice his discomfort and stared up into the stars above them.

"It's nice to have a place further out from a city so we can see the stars. Not as much light pollution out here, you know? Would the stars miss looking down on us if there was so much light pollution and regular pollution that we couldn't see them and they couldn't see us? Are they souls? Are they fey? Do they care? Do we?"

_(Don't stare at his chest, don't fall into his voice, don't lean over and put your mouth on his nipple)_

"I care, Facey. I don't want the stars to go away. I have a piece of blue goldstone—blue goldstone sounds an oxymoron, doesn't it?—that looks like the stars above, all glittery like a tiny galaxy—"

_(Don't think about him, it's stupid, you're stupid)_

"—I'll show it to you sometime, Facey. It's like holding a tiny galaxy in your hand. What's up with you, lately?"

The abrupt change of subject caught Face off guard.

"W-what? Nothing! Everything's fine, everything's—"

_(Liar liar pants on fire)_

Murdock snorted, cutting Face off. "If that's your best con, you're getting rusty."

Face stopped trying to lie.

Murdock swung around on the lounger to face him. "What's going on, Face? Why're you all wonky?"

There was very little color out here in the dark. Moonlight made everything black and white and varying shades of grey. But Face knew the color of the darkened eyes pleading with him. When he dared to glance into them, he saw Murdock's lips lift in a slight smile and those eyes crinkle a bit at the outer edges, the way they did when Murdock looked at someone fondly—

_(Like that young lady, like all young ladies, like he always has, he's straight, he's straight you stupid idiot)_

"Face?" Murdock asked, more gently this time.

Face dropped his hesitant gaze. "I'm jealous!" he blurted out.

"Jealous?" Murdock repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth as if it were new.

"Yes! Jealous, jealous of—"

_(Careful there, Faceman, this is a straight guy in front of you. Don't ask, don't tell, don't hit on breeders unless you want the shit beat out of you)_

"Aw, no need to be jealous of me, Facey, no matter what Hannibal and B.A. tease—"

"I'm jealous of that girl!"

_(Oops)_


	4. Chapter 4

_ (No control over your big mouth when emotions are high, that's always been a problem, that's why you got so good at the con game, remember)_

Murdock cut himself off with an audible snap.

Internally, Face groaned. Murdock was sharp, too sharp, sometimes—he'd read between the lines slick as snot and that'd be the end. The end of their friendship. The end of the team, if he wanted to have delusions of grandeur. The end of everything.

"Face?"

His name was whispered. Face glanced up, saw Murdock see him glance up, saw Murdock's tongue wet his lips, and looked down again.

"Face . . . I don't . . . I don't understand . . ."

_(Way to go, idiot, is there any way you could have made this worse)_

Murdock fingers brushed his arm. It was an unexpected touch, and Face jumped.

He looked up again and found Murdock searching his face. He sighed, a little.

"I'm jealous of that girl, Murdock," he admitted again, in a more modulated tone than before. Even if his insides were torn apart, he had to hold it together for Murdock. That was only fair. "I'm jealous that . . . that you flirted with her, that you put your arm around her. That . . . that you took her to bed. I'm jealous of her, because—"

_(In for a penny, in for a pound)_

"—I wished it was me. Not her. Me."

Face closed his eyes.

_(Now that you've confessed this and have broken him, startled him, angered him, are you going to force him to be the one to tell Hannibal and B.A. why you left? Why you couldn't stay with the team any longer? Or are you man enough to do it yourself, in the daylight)_

"F-face . . ."

Face flinched involuntarily at the stutter.

Murdock soldiered on. "Face . . . I never knew. I never . . ."

"I didn't either," Face admitted with a croak. "Not until I saw you with her. Not until I heard you with her."

The pilot's fingers, which hadn't left his arm, tightened a little.

"I'm sorry, Murdock. Oh christ I'm sorry."

The two sat silently for a moment.

_(It's time to leave now. You've done enough damage)_

"I've never been with a man," Murdock whispered, in a voice almost quieter than the crickets.

Face glanced up.

Murdock was looking at him steadily. There was no revulsion or horror on his features. Face was speechless.

"You're beautiful—I hope you don't mind me sayin' that, and I have to admit I'm flattered, and nervous too! Look at me shakin'!"

He held up his free hand to demonstrate.

"Murdock, you don't—"

"Shakin' usually means something's profound. I always shake when something strikes me to the core. And this . . ."

The pilot stopped again. Face didn't complete his protest, because his throat was dry as dust. He was shaking too, he realized.

"I've never been with a man," Murdock repeated. His voice dropped again, into that deep Texan accent that haunted Face's dreams lately, suggesting naughty and sensual things that went straight to his cock. "But I think . . . I think I'd like to . . ."

It was on the tip of his tongue to object again, to apologize until Murdock saw reason.

_(Now he thinks he has to do this, now he thinks you'll force him)_

"Can I give it a try?" Murdock asked. It confused Face that the lilt of it was embarrassed.

"T-try?"

"I like you. You're my best friend, I've been with you through thick an' thin, and-and . . . I want to try. Is that okay?"

For once, that internal voice was speechless too.

Murdock, as his habit when he was nervous, rattled on. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you think this is a tease, or that I'm not in my right mind. I just want to try. Try and see . . . it's hard to have a real relationship, this life we have, and we've been through so much together and we're together and I like you and even if I've never done anything with a man it doesn't mean I'm against it, I just—"

Face took the back of Murdock's neck and pulled him forward until their foreheads touched.

"—I just never really _thought _about being with a guy, but I'm interested, I'm curious, which is pretty cliché, bi-curious, you know—"

Face kissed him.

It was semi-sloppy, semi-rushed and all passion. Murdock's words were swallowed by Face. His tongue slipped through the pilot's lips, finding no resistance, finding nothing but warmth and eagerness. The slick movement of tongue on tongue shot electricity to Face's groin. Murdock's fingers tightened on his arm again, and this time didn't let up.

The give and take lasted until they were both close to out of oxygen.

They sat with their foreheads pressed together.

"Yeah . . . that was good," Murdock said in awe, and Face heard the smile in his voice.

Nothing could stop Face's spontaneous grin either. Murdock said he didn't want to hurt him, but Face silently vowed the same.

_(He's worth it, I'll do anything for him, I'll take everything at his pace and never make him feel pressured, if he wants to call it off that's cool, whatever he wants whatever he wants)_

Murdock surged in for another kiss, another taste, and Face melted into it.

_fin._


End file.
